Tuesday 
Men with an agenda:
Mary of Bethany hears the questions

I delivered Martha’s message to Joanna and we agreed we’d go together to hear Jesus in the temple’s outer court. The Herodians were there when we arrived.
Joanna smiled quizzically. ‘A few faces I recognise here,’ she observed, ‘but no one that I’d expect to be a fan of the man from Nazareth.’

We soon found out what was up – a trap to put Jesus in trouble with his followers or in prison under Roman guard. It didn’t work. His answer about Caesar, money and God wrong-footed all of them.

I settled down to hear whatever came next, pleased that Martha had found me a task that earned me time to listen to my Lord. Joanna stayed by me and gave my hand a little squeeze. I knew what that meant. She was grateful to be with friends for a while rather than in the cut and thrust of Herod’s court.

Once you’re dead, you’re dead, full stop!

A couple of Sadducees were the next to ask a question. Well, it was a bit more than a question actually. It was a thoroughly complicated rigmarole about one woman and far too many men which didn’t make any sense in my eyes. The reason for the story was simple enough: they believed that once you’re dead, you’re dead, full stop. No argument.

In their made-up tale there were seven brothers. The woman married the first and he promptly died without her having any children. As the law of Moses directed, the second brother married the woman but then he… I could see where this was going: seven brothers marrying one woman and not a single sign of a son or daughter anywhere.

However we all had to wait while they wound their way through the whole silly story. The question, if you can call it that, was who would the woman be married to in the afterlife. It was their way of arguing against resurrection, heaven, anything after death.

I can’t be sure, but I’m almost certain I heard Jesus give a quiet sigh when they had finally finished. You could hardly blame him if he did. I wondered how often he had put up with nonsense like this.

He’s obviously talking about the living!

‘Look and think,’ Jesus told those who had asked the question.‘Look at our scriptures and think about our God. Marriage is for this time not for all the times to come. Think of yourself in the next world as all being God’s children, like the angels. As for your idea of the dead not rising, what did God say to Moses? He said “I am the God of Abraham.” God isn’t talking about someone in the past here, he’s obviously talking about the living.’

‘That’s a great answer,’ said one of the teachers who was there and others agreed with him. Not the Sadducees, of course. They huddled in the corner and muttered. In fact, no one came forward with any more clever debating points after that. I think they were actually a little scared of him.

However, one of those who had been impressed by Jesus did bring up a matter about the law. ‘Which of all our rules is the most important?’ he asked. Now that’s a proper question. Instead of men with an agenda we had a genuine enquiry. That’s because it came from someone who hadn’t already decided what the answer should be.
‘Most important?’ Jesus mused. ‘Well, there is one God so love him with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, with all your strength.’

I thought to myself: that just about includes every part of us, every single thing we think and say and do.

‘There’s another rule that goes with the first one,’ Jesus added, ‘Love your neighbour just as much as yourself.’

The teacher raised his eyebrows and smiled. ‘One God to love and serve with all our might! That is so right and much more powerful than any worship and sacrifice we can perform here.’ You could see that Jesus had warmed to the man. I suppose he felt he had been understood at last.

Jesus told him, ‘You are not far from the kingdom of God itself.’

And, suddenly, I could see how right Martha had been to send me out that morning. The day was a treat, a blessing. I’ve always enjoyed listening to Jesus and this time I also saw what his answers meant for me. It was absolutely right to listen, to feel, to understand. But you are not truly whole unless you act on what you discover.

Prayer night: John keeping watch

After supper, our master left the village to spend time on the Mount of Olives. There was an olive grove which belonged to a friend of our movement: a quiet place where he used to pray, think and, on warm spring nights, sleep quietly under the stars.

I sensed he would have been happy to have been there alone but, in that last week, at least some of us were nearly always with him. We didn’t trust the priests or the council or Herod or Pilate. Any of them might want to see Jesus out of the way. In fact, he may have chosen to take his rest beyond the village itself in order to avoid an incident that would put Lazarus or any of the others at risk.

His unwavering passion for a faith that wouldn’t lie down and be compromised was exhilarating

On Tuesday, Simon Zealot said he’d join him. He didn’t ask, just stated it and Jesus didn’t refuse. I asked to join them too and they both nodded. Often, I do things with Simon Peter and my brother James, but I also get on with the other Simon. His unwavering passion for a faith that wouldn’t lie down and be compromised was exhilarating and made him a formidable opponent if an enemy was in view.

That night he had his sword with him as usual but a weapon wasn’t needed. We had the mountainside to ourselves and stayed quietly in the shadows as our master prayed.

The words ‘why’ and ‘how’ came up more than once.

Sometimes he did so silently but other parts we heard clearly enough. The words ‘why’ and ‘how’ came up more than once. That was no surprise. Why on earth were people trying to catch him out? Why couldn’t they see what we could see? And how could all this be changed? Even if we didn’t catch everything that he was saying, we sensed where his prayers led.

It felt like he was sifting through what was left for him to say and do. This was about his next moves, and I guess, looking back at it now, how many moves were left.

Simon Zealot had always believed that passion for the faith would win through and that people would eventually be swept up in a wave of nationalism which even the Romans couldn’t deny. It was a wonderful way to look at the world but the trickery I’d watched play out in the temple itself had almost convinced me it was never going to happen.

He looked hopeful again.

The trouble I saw on our master’s face that evening made me feel I was right to be pessimistic. Yet, for all the doubts and concerns, there was a moment when the lines on my Lord’s face relaxed and he looked hopeful again. ‘Thank you,’ I heard him whisper, ‘for the one who asked and understood what love is all about. He is not far from us, is he? I am grateful for that.’

It occurred to me, after he had said those words, that one person who reaches out can sometimes make all the difference, not just to us but to Jesus too.